Seeing Green
by heystella
Summary: A series of Heiji and Kazuha centric drabbles and ficlets. Drabble 9: Have you given a girl your first kiss yet?
1. Perverts

Seeing Green  
Drabble 1: Perverts

Notes: I'm perfectly aware that this is OOC, but Heiji is a hormonally-charged teenager just like any other boy his age. Even if it may not seem like he fits in with the trends, I found the idea funny.

---

Hattori Heiji was not a pervert.

At least, he attempted to assure himself of this, because contrary to popular belief, he did not find pleasure in watching his best friend – who also happened to be female and very, very cute – pull up her tube top continuously as they walked through the department store, climbing escalator after escalator.

He wasn't a pervert. It wasn't like he was secretly enjoying checking out his friend's rack. Not that it was readily visible or anything, but if he used his imagination – Heiji's eye twitched. He was not about to continue that thought. Only perverts did that, and he was most definitely NOT one.

However, he did notice various guys (who appeared to be taken already) shamelessly looking Kazuha up and down. Many flashed smiles at her, a few even asked her for her phone number when their girls weren't around. But they weren't stupid, and they recognized Heiji as the great detective of the West, as well as the captain of the kendo club at Kaihougakuen who was skilled enough to defeat several Osaka swordsmen. They knew to back off when Heiji sent them heated death glares.

Those guys were perverts.

So when Kazuha trudged ahead of him, once again pulling up that damned tube top with nearly all the males within seeing distance stealing lustful glances at his gir – no, his friend – one could only imagine his response.

"GOD DAMMIT, KAZUHA, IF YOU DON'T MARCH YOURSELF UP TO THE FIFTH FLOOR AND BUY YOURSELF A BRA THAT ACTUALLY FITS YOU, I'LL GO UP THERE AND GET YOU ONE MYSELF!"

Shocked. Recovered. Offended. A sound slap to the face.

And yes, Hattori Heiji was still no pervert.

End.


	2. Imperfect Proposal

Seeing Green  
Drabble 2: Imperfect Proposal

Notes: This started off as a discussion with my sister about how Heiji would propose to Kazuha in the most unromantic way EVER.

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"I mean, we've known each other all our lives anyway. Might as well make it official."

Kazuha's eyes darted back and forth from Heiji's face to the black box that he held in his hands. She blinked several times, trying to process what he had just said. "…Wait, what?"

Heiji rolled his eyes in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit, woman. You deaf or something! I said we should just get married already."

Her jaw dropped. Well, this certainly was not what she expected. Ever since she was a little girl, she dreamt of her tall, dark, sea foam-eyed prince riding in on a noble steed and proposing to her in the most romantic of ways, by a candlelit dinner under the moonlight.

Well, luckily her tall dark and sea foam-eyed prince was her best friend all along. His "noble steed" ended up being a motorcycle that he loved entirely too much… that much she could live with. And while there was no candlelit dinner, there was still the moonlight…

But he had to ruin it by proposing in the crudest way. And now, he stood still, looking rather fidgety with his hands in his pockets and said sea foam colored eyes glaring at her.

She arched an eyebrow. "Hattori Heiji, I sincerely hope for your health that this is just some kind of sick joke."

"What makes you think I'd joke about this, you moron!" Heiji snapped. "You're just too stupid to recognize a marriage proposal when it finally hits you!"

Kazuha's eyes flashed dangerously. "And exactly what part of that was a proposal, you idiot! You have no clue about these things!"

"Ugh, just shut up! It's not like there's a guidebook to proposals or anything! Take it or leave it – you should be thankful I'm even asking you at all!" Heiji retorted, taking a step closer to her.

She in turn stepped closer as well. "No way in hell I'd be thankful for this! Sounds more like a negotiation rather than a proposal!"

"Don't be stubborn, just say yes already!"

"NO!"

Silence. Narrowed eyes, harsh glares.

Then without warning and without breaking eye contact, Heiji brought out his cell phone. "Mom? She accepted, so you can start cooking dinner now. Alright." Then he hung up.

Kazuha's eyes widened. "Heiji, you did not just—"

Her words died out when he grabbed her hand and started to pull along behind him. Then an idea came to her. "Heiji, wait. We never even dated or anything like that. It's not going to work."

Heiji stopped in his tracks, and Kazuha nearly bumped into him. She was about to branch off into a string of insults when she noticed that he was thinking. But his hand never left hers. " 'Zuha." Unconsciously she flushed. She hadn't heard that name since she was a little girl.

He continued, "I know I suck at these things. And don't you rub it in my face; I admitted it, right? I'm no good at this, but could we just pretend I am? And besides…" He lifted his eyes and met her gaze. Suddenly she found it hard to breathe. "Are things really gonna change that much? Everybody says we argue like a married couple already." A pause, then he raised his hand, the one that still clutched hers, and placed her hand on his heart. A soft smile had found its place on his lips. "Only when it finally happens, you'll be mine and no one else's."

_Tha-thump_. With a wide-eyed expression on her face and a steadily rising blush, Kazuha wrenched her hand away from him and walked a few steps away so that her back faced him. With both hands to her cheeks, she closed her eyes, attempting to fight the blush back down.

Really, it should have been illegal for him to say stuff like that.

"Kaz—"

"I accept," she replied slowly turning to face him. "Yes. I will."

The smile on his face seemed bright enough to light a room.

And Kazuha felt a similar expression come over hers.

It was a beautiful moment. Until…

"God, Kazuha, what's wrong with your face?"

"…You know what, forget it! Who'd want to marry a jackass like you anyway!"

"Dammit, can't you take a joke!"

Yes, well. Heiji was rather clueless about these things. But luckily Kazuha was willing to help him out.

End.


	3. Discovery

Seeing Green  
Drabble 3: Discovery

Notes: Again we have the unconventional Heiji. Really, does the man do anything like a normal person does?

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School had been unusually boring and very quiet without her there. During first period, when there usually would be an outbreak of some sort with shrill voices and harsh words, an unnerving silence had enveloped the room. Of course, some of his guy friends had the nerve to approach him after second period to tease him, "Where's your wife today, eh?"

Needless to say, after he was through with them, they dropped the subject entirely.

He had to swallow his pride for a bit when he asked his mother after school if she could make a pot of soup, seeing as he was no cook. And then she just had to go smile in that proud, _knowing_ way as she asked what ("Or whom?" she's said with an arched eyebrow) the soup was for. After several denials that the soup was for anyone -- but she wouldn't take the denials, for she had to know just who the soup was for in case she needed to add a little extra spice to it, as she knew a certain special friend of her son liked her soup spicy -- Heiji had grit his teeth and muttered, "Kazuha."

So off he went next door to the Toyama house armed with a surgical mask over his nose and mouth and a big pot of soup in his hands. After ringing the doorbell, he waited for a few seconds before ringing it again. And again.

He was about to reach for the bell to ring it for a sixth time when Kazuha opened the door for two seconds and slammed it in his face. Blink. Then she opened it again.

"What was that for?" Heiji growled, his words somewhat gargled by the mask.

Kazuha looked far too out of sorts to argue, so she settled for glaring at him with her watery eyes in return. "Don't be a jackass. Just ring it once," she replied in her low, scratchy voice. Heiji mentally winced. It was always strange when Kazuha got sick. Usually her throat was affected every time, so naturally she would never yell at him when she wasn't feeling well. A welcome break really, for his poor ears, but sometimes it was really unnerving.

She stepped back to let him in and slowly trudged back up the stairs to her room. Heiji, meanwhile, closed the front door behind him and went to the kitchen to prepare the soup for Kazuha.

When he opened the door to her room, she was already lying in bed with a towel draped over her forehead. Her eyes were bleary as she turned to look at him. In her lime green pajamas with her loose hair disheveled and fever-induced red cheeks, the other half of the detective of the West (though he would never ever admit that) was not looking her best at all.

"Mom made you some soup," he explained, looking away. Was that a blush on his face? "She said I should go over and take care of you since you're sick and all."

"You didn't have to," she replied as she sat up with a bit of difficulty, coughing. Good lordy, that was a lot of phlegm.

Heiji bit back a laugh as he helped her sit up and placed the tray of food in front of her. "It's cool. Not everyday that I get to see you and you don't yell at me for some stupid reason."

She was about to comment on that when she sneezed into her elbow. Sneezed once, twice, three times. Yep. Definitely a cold.

In other words, she looked positively miserable. As she sipped up her soup and he watched her cough, his eyes grew concerned.

Just like that, all the pieces started to come together. Staying at her bedside showed a side to her that he'd never seen before – just like in the middle of a case, when he just out of nowhere noticed a piece of evidence that no one else took note of – and it all became clear. The puzzle that he came to label Toyama Kazuha was complete.

It was quite funny, really. The great detective of the West finally figured out that he was in love with his best friend, and frankly, she looked like crap.

"What are you staring at? It's bad enough I'm sick; I don't need to deal with you staring at me," she replied as best as she could with a stuffed-up nose. Not caring much for protocol anymore, she took a tissue from the box nearby and blew her nose into it.

A smile curled his lips. Poor girl had enough to deal with at the moment.

Maybe he'd share his discovery with her when she got over her cold.

End.


	4. Windows to the Soul

Seeing Green  
Drabble 4: Windows to the Soul

Notes: Takes place about a year prior to the series. BEWARE THE POINTLESS FLUFF!

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As a kid, Heiji had always loved solving puzzles and riddles. He was always told by his teachers that although he had an attitude, he had the brains to make it in the world and be successful. Ellery Queen was his idol growing up, and critical thinking and analysis became some of his favorite pastimes.

In other words, Heiji was a _weird_ child. At least, that was Kazuha's opinion.

So on the day of her sixteenth birthday, she and Heiji were going shopping in downtown, when lo and behold, Otaki-san came out of nowhere and dragged Heiji off to God-knows-where to help him figure out a murder case. He'd known about the boy's affinity for analysis and knowledge of kendo, which came in quite handy when Heiji pointed out something strange about the man's kendo stance in the video provided as evidence.

After that, it all went kind of downhill.

When Heiji wasn't in school or a kendo tournament, he spent his days scouring Osaka and solving mysteries, quickly becoming known as the great high school detective of the West. Along with his fame, he had earned a few new fangirls, who claimed that Hattori-kun was not only "so good at kendo" but also "so cool" and "so smart!" To this, Heiji had often scratched his head and smiled in reply, saying, "Nahh, it was nothing," in false modesty.

Kazuha wanted to gag. No, as the daughter of the inspector who worked closely with Hattori Heizo, she knew how the son of Osaka's police head was really like. Brash, rude, always calling her an idiot – it really made her wonder why she stuck by him so closely. And no, as she told her doting father many times, it was not because she was trying to scare off the fangirls. It was because – well… she wasn't sure how to explain it. It was confusing; a raw emotion that she'd never felt before, something she couldn't exactly put into words... But there were a few instances that she could cite in reference to that feeling.

It was around 4:30 on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. They were walking home after kendo and aikido club when Otaki-san came to fetch him to help out with a crime scene that was located nearby. That was the first time she saw him display his powerful skills of deduction. And – as damaging to her pride as it was – she did admit that he looked rather cool when inspecting all the evidence and clues that were left behind.

Then there was the time that she had lost a bet to him – she forgot what the wager was, really – but she remembered that she had to take over his afternoon duty for the week. After scrubbing meticulously at every smudge, stain, and dirt clod that she could find, the classroom was cleaner than ever by the end of her cleaning. That Saturday afternoon, after she finally came out of the classroom with the smell of cleaning solvent on her clothing, he was waiting for her outside of the school gate with the widest grin she'd ever seen him wear. He treated her out to her favorite okonomiyaki place after they took a long walk through the park.

Most importantly, there was the time that she and her father had gotten into the car accident. Her father was in the middle of crossing an intersection when a sports car came running the red light from the left, smashing into her side of the car and causing them to spin out of control, crashing into a nearby pole. Luckily her father had only retained minor whiplash and she'd gotten away with a broken leg and a very small concussion. But when she came to, Heiji sat at her bedside wearing the most self-hating, miserable expression – mixed with a fringe of hope for a strange combination.

"You could've died," he said in a harsh whisper, though there was no anger behind the words. Just concern, she could tell. "You could've died, and you'd be gone, and I'd never – we'd never – God, 'Zuha, don't _do_ that."

The comment itself sounded ludicrous, as if she could have done anything about the accident, really… But seeing Heiji so quiet for once was a welcome change. For a while they just sat, her fingers laced in his.

Then she met his eyes for two seconds and was lost in them.

His eyes – his stormy, passionate eyes – they epitomized the very emotion she had sought to name.

Eyes never lie.

And his eyes brimmed with nothing more and nothing less than love.

End


	5. Treasure

Seeing Green  
Drabble 5: Treasure

Notes: My sister has this habit of calling me Kazuha. And I happen to like containers (Container Store mmmm) so I kind of ran with the idea.

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Kazuha was a girl who appreciated containers. Or, in Heiji's words, "She's completely obsessed!"

He picked up on her little quirk they were about 16 years old. Now, he knew that girls liked cute stuff, and Kazuha was no exception. She was always buying little boxes and tin cans and things with flowers and such. But one day they were walking through a department store and he noticed that she was stopping to look at the plastic containers.

The plain, plastic containers. The kinds one would use to store clothes and such. Yes,_ those_ kinds of containers.

Which didn't make any sense, considered Heiji'd been in Kazuha's room, and he distinctly remembered a walk-in closet that seemed to have endless space for her clothing collection.

One day he was bored and decided to go over to her house. Toyama-keijibuchou was the one who answered, and he directed the young detective to Kazuha's room.

When Heiji entered her room, he found her sitting in the middle of the floor, right in the middle of stacking up a 66-quart plastic bin with all the pretty little containers she had obtained over the years. He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

She shot him a look. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm putting all my boxes together."

Heiji sat down across from her with the plastic box serving as a barricade. "You know, you always make fun of me because I'm a detective, but you're weird in your own way. I mean, what the hell do you put in those containers anyway?"

Something flitted across her face, but it was gone before he could identify it. "Nothing really." She picked up a small black satin-covered box with embroidered cherry blossoms, lifted the lid just a tiny bit as if to see the contents were intact, and placed the box into the plastic bin.

He deadpanned. "What do you mean, 'nothing?' You spend a ton of money on those containers and there's nothing in them?"

Kazuha shook her head. "No, not exactly. If you have to know, I keep my memories in these things." With that, she placed a green box with a pink heart embroidered on the lid right in front of him, and chose at that moment to skip out of her room, humming a pleasant song.

Heiji curiously opened the lid to the box, and then he understood.

Nestled among an array of photos of himself and Kazuha were various trinkets and items. There were the hair ribbons she wore when she was a little girl in Kyoto. There was her first cell phone (and he remembered it well, for she had insisted that they share a plan after discovering that sometimes detective work was dangerous). And there was her omamori, the very link between the two of them, and as Heiji's mother had put it, "The substitute of the red thread of fate between my son and Kazuha-chan."

Suddenly his phone rang, jarring him out of his thoughts. It was Otaki-han, asking him to come and investigate a crime scene at the train station.

As he jumped on his bike and sped to the station, he made a mental note to pick up one of those plastic containers after the case was solved.

End.


	6. Soulmates

Seeing Green  
Drabble 6: Soulmates

Notes: Really, really random plot bunny. O.o

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"I want to get married."

Heiji nearly spat out the tea he was drinking. "Uh, sorry to disappoint you, Kazuha, but—"

"No, not to you, you idiot!" Kazuha retorted, her cheeks pink. "But… Someday. To someone. I want to get married eventually."

The detective raised an eyebrow. "So you'll get married to any random guy who asks you?"

"No!" she exclaimed, and stood from her lounging position on the floor. "But I was thinking. Ran-chan and Kudo-kun are perfect, don't you think? I mean, she was waiting for so long and then he finally returned to her. They're like soulmates! It's really sweet!"

Had something happened to Kazuha on that trip to Tokyo that Heiji was not aware of? "What's got you into this gaa-gaa mood all of a sudden?"

Kazuha sat down next to Heiji on his bed and sighed blissfully. "Nothing, really. But just seeing Ran-chan with all the preparations makes me envious. I can't wait to plan my own wedding. It would be nice to have a soulmate to call my own."

He laughed, a bit louder than he intended. "Kazuha, no man in his right mind would want to marry you."

Only a second too late, he figured out what he had said. "Uh… _Ohh_. K-Kazuha, I—"

But the damage was done. She looked up at him, eyes filled to the brim with angry tears, which she furiously (but fruitlessly) wiped at. "You… you _jerk_! Do you _like_ making me cry?"

"I – that's not it – Dammit, Kazuha, stop crying!" Heiji demanded, and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Why were women so difficult?

The bedsprings shifted as Kazuha's weight left the mattress, and before Heiji knew it, she had stormed out of his room. The detective swore and grabbed his phone, yanking on his jacket as he took his leave from the room as well.

---

And when it came down to it, Kazuha didn't have to do much searching at all. Her soulmate was right beside her all along, even if he was an insensitive jerk sometimes.

But hey, who said soulmates were supposed to be perfect anyway?

End.


	7. Masterpiece

Seeing Green  
Drabble 7: Masterpiece

Notes: The idea struck when I was out buying a charcoal sketchbook, hehe.

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As Kazuha was growing up, she was always told that she was a particularly skilled artist. It seemed she just had a natural talent for it. When Heiji had discovered the joys (_please_) of critical thinking and detective work in their junior year of high school, Kazuha decided that she would do well with a hobby of her own.

So, one Saturday afternoon, after she was done with cleaning duty, she sat down in the empty classroom with a sketchbook and pencil in hand and just sketched. The first image she rendered was a perspective drawing of the desk in front of her – they'd been learning about two-point perspective in class earlier in the week. After that, she stopped thinking about what she was drawing and her hand seemed to move on its own.

It relaxed her. She flipped page after page, simply letting her hand manifest her feelings onto the empty sheets, her fingers sketched as a type of therapy for the various thoughts running through her head.

She continued to draw until the sun went down.

---

His form was perfect for study: tall, muscular in all the right places, yet not too burly, and not scrawny either – lean. She liked to watch him as he practiced with his kendo team – through watching him, she gained an idea about the male form and also – though she would never admit it – there was something about him as he stood candid, something that attracted her.

She had only intended to make him the subject of one sketch. However, to her utter chagrin, her best friend's face stared up at her from nearly all the pages in her sketchbook.

Mentally, she made a note to never let Heiji see the sketchbook. Ever.

---

She had actually focused on this piece for once.

It was a view of the inside of the aikido dojo where she co-instructed. It was all drawn from memory – the planks in the floor, O Sensei's photo up on the wall, and the various students littering the area as they sparred. However, as she nailed the basic sketch down and proceeded to shade in, her mind began to drift.

So much that she didn't notice a figure approaching her. So much that she didn't notice said figure sitting down next to her, until he said, "Hey, whatcha doing, Kazuha?"

She nearly leapt out of her skin. "What the – dear God, Heiji, don't do that!"

Heiji's thick brows drew together as he peered over her shoulder, "I didn't know you took up drawing again. Ah, is that your dojo?"

"Uh… yeah," she admitted reluctantly, turning away from him as she flipped the book closed.

"Can I see it? Your sketchbook, that is," Heiji asked, his grin wide.

"NO," was her rather quick response.

"Why not?" he demanded. "It's not like your stuff sucks or anything. Sensei says you're pretty good."

"My stuff isn't any good," Kazuha insisted. "It's not worth looking at, really."

"I'll be the judge of that," Heiji replied. "Come on, lemme see," and with that, he tugged on her sketchbook, gently but firmly. She wouldn't give it up.

"No," she repeated stoutly, a fierce blush spread across her cheeks. "It sucks. I don't want you looking at it."

He glared at her.

She glared back.

"Hey, Kazuha, what's that?" Heiji pointed to something behind Kazuha's head.

How stupid did he think she was? An age-old trick like that wouldn't work. "What's what?"

His eyes were urgent. "Look, behind you! Endo-sensei's coming – he's probably going to make fun of you for scoring so low on that last physics test…"

She immediately whipped around and knew she'd been duped. Her sketchbook flew out of arms and landed in Heiji's hands, and her eyes widened in horror as he began flipping through the pages.

A portrait of Heiji in his school uniform working on homework was the first sketch after the perspective drawing of the desk. After that was Heiji in his kendo uniform, his game face on as he slammed his sword down over his opponent's shoulder. After that, Heiji with his cap turned forward with his hand at his chin, mulling over a murder.

Heiji riding his motorcycle, racing over a highway. Heiji wearing the grin he gained after solving a case. Heiji lounging on his bed, leafing through the paper. Among these were many more, with very few sketches of other things far and in between.

Complete mortification crept over Kazuha as Heiji perused the sketches, biting his lip in attempt to keep the smile off his face. When he looked at her again, she pressed her hands to her red cheeks and walked a few steps away. "I told you not to look it," she muttered.

He was still fighting the smile – a losing battle, she had to add – as he handed her the sketchbook. "It's… it's good, Kazuha. I'm surprised."

"Not another word," she bit out, balling her fists at her sides.

"No, I'm serious," Heiji insisted, a distinctly lopsided grin now spreading over his face. "Your stuff's pretty good. But I guess it helps a lot when you have a really good-looking subject."

She inhaled sharply, but still refused to look at him. "Tch. Don't think anything of it."

"Well…" he began, that amused smile ever-present on his face, "It's kinda hard not to, considering how many sketches there are of me in there. But I'm curious. Why did you draw me anyway?"

"Cause… cause you're nearby," she sputtered.

Heiji raised an amused eyebrow.

"I… I was only drawing you because I wanted to practice drawing humans, and you were nearby," Kazuha managed. Hopefully it sounded like a good excuse.

"Okay, I get that. But," Heiji took the sketchbook from her and flipped through its pages again, "It's _only_ me. I mean, you've got at least ten in here."

Her cheeks were as red as they could get at this point. "Well… I… er… you know…"

He grinned. "What was that?"

"It's just that—!" Kazuha stopped in mid-sentence to collect her thoughts. "I mean, you're… Well… It's… I dunno… I guess that…" Again she paused. "It's just that… when I have you as a model, things just... I dunno. They turn out right. It's like… things are good, things are perfect. And… yeah. It's like… it's like that."

Heiji just stared at her, his brow furrowing in thought. Unconsciously she shrank back; he was scrutinizing her, just as he scrutinized a piece of evidence on one of his cases. He must have stared at her for the better part of five minutes. Then, as if a light went off in his head, comprehension dawned over his eyes and he positively lit up.

"Alright. I get it, Kazuha," he said with a slight nod and a full-fledged smile. He reached for her hand then, and her returned smile was shy but sure.

Kazuha was good at art, Heiji had to admit.

But he found that her smile at that moment was her best piece to date.

End.


	8. Apparently She Hates Roses

Seeing Green  
Drabble 8: Apparently She Hates Roses

Notes: Random plot bunny. This would probably be my own reaction if a guy got me roses, haha.

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Heiji was actually listening to Kudo for once. And this time, it didn't involve a case.

"To win her over," Kudo had said over the phone, "Get her a dozen red roses."

It sounded logical. It sounded like something a boyfriend should do. So being the logical detective that he was, Heiji went ahead and bought Kazuha a dozen red roses for her birthday.

He was sure she'd be thrilled. After all, she was a girl, and girls like flowers. That in itself was common sense.

He didn't expect her to toss the bouquet to the ground and shut the door in his face.

But after some thought, he just figured she'd most likely had a bad morning.

----------

When he showed up on her doorstep the next day with more red roses, she took the bouquet and hurled it elsewhere, sailing it over his head to land on her lawn.

And she shut the front door.

Which left Heiji angry. Very angry.

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The next morning, he showed up on her doorstep again with a dozen red roses, determined to make her accept the flowers this time.

When she opened the door, she shoved the bouquet back in his face.

"AHOU!" He yelled. "Can't you recognize a gift when it's given to you?"

"You're the ahou," she sniffed daintily. "The gesture is nice, but the flowers are completely wrong."

And again, the door was shut in his face.

----------

As Kazuha stepped into her shower, the phone began to ring in the Toyama household. Her father scrambled to answer it. "Hello?"

"…"

"Hello?"

"Occhan," came Heiji's voice from the other line.

"Ah, Heiji," Toyama sat back down in front of his newspaper. "Kazuha's in the bath right now."

"Actually," the high school detective spoke in a rather high voice, "I wanted to talk to you about something, Occhan."

Toyama raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that?" Upon hearing Heiji's question, the man began to chuckle. "Well, I'd have to say…"

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When Kazuha opened the door the next day, there was a white basket full of African violets shoved in her face.

…She positively lit up. "Ooh, they're so pretty! Where'd you get them, Heiji? How thoughtful!"

And while Heiji was indeed satisfied that she was finally happy, he couldn't help but laugh. Oh, how some men were so clueless about women. If Kudo thought that roses worked on all females, he was so very wrong.

End.


	9. Ready

Seeing Green  
Drabble 9: Ready

Notes: Not a very original idea, but oh well!

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It was a regular Saturday afternoon – they had just gotten out of club activities, and both were equally excited for the weekend. At least, Heiji was. Kazuha was acting very strange, in his opinion. He was in the middle of asking her what she wanted to do tomorrow (because he just wanted to hang out with his friend and no it was not a date thank you very much) when he noticed that she was being unusually quiet.

"Kazuha?" Heiji asked.

No reaction. She just stared down at the ground in front of her.

"Oi, 'zuha."

Kazuha kept her gaze down. Was the gravel that interesting?

Regardless, Heiji was growing agitated at her lack of attention. Without a second thought, he grabbed the end of her ponytail and yanked it. "K-a-z-u-h-a!"

By pure instinct, her hand flew to the base of her ponytail and whirled around to face him wide-eyed. Surprisingly she didn't yell. "Oh… Heiji, it's you."

He raised an eyebrow. "You were spacing out, idiot. What's wrong with you?"

She looked away, resembling a woman with amnesia, confused about her identity. "Oh… It's just that… today at club…" She trailed off.

What the hell? She really was acting strange. Heiji frowned. "Don't trail off right in the middle. Finish your sentence. 'Today at club…?'"

His best friend stayed silent as her hand sought out an ornament dangling from her neck. Her fingers toyed with the omamori, something she often did when she was thinking about something.

Heiji's frown deepened. He was the best detective in town (so claimed many of the Kansai newspapers) but he just could not figure out the mystery behind his best friend – which made no sense, considering he'd known her since they were in diapers –

"Have you given a girl your first kiss yet?"

The Western detective nearly face-faulted. "I-Idiot! What kind of question is that! What were you saying before, anyway!"

The look on Kazuha's face told him she was serious. As flushed as her cheeks were (which was when he found her the cutest – oh crap), her eyes were determined. "I'm serious. Have you given a girl your first kiss?"

He stared at her. "What would you say if I said yes?"

It was slight, very very slight – but something strange appeared in her eyes, and as soon as she blinked it was gone. She looked away. "Tch… Why? Should I care if you've kissed some random girl or not? I'm just curious, that's all."

Kazuha walked a little faster, as if to avoid meeting his eyes.

"I haven't," Heiji replied. "Just so ya know."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"I haven't given my first kiss away," he added, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder. "And I'm guessing you haven't either?"

"Of course not!" she denied rather quickly. Then, "Hey, Heiji? I was thinking… Maybe one day…We can…"

"Yeah," he responded. "One day. But that'll make me come to terms with things that I'm not ready for yet. I'm still young, ya know? So… do you think you can wait?"

_Do you think you can wait?_

Kazuha turned to face him with a soft smile. "Yeah. I'll wait."

_Forever, if I have to. Because even though you're an idiot, I lo –_

_No. I won't say it just yet._

_But I will. When we're both ready._

End.


End file.
